Walking with a Ghost
by Lila2
Summary: Wallace doesn't owe Lilly Kane a thing.


**Title:** "Walking with a Ghost"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG

**Character/Pairing:** Wallace

**Spoiler:** "Leave it to Beaver"

**Length:** one-shot ficlet

**Summary:** Wallace doesn't owe Lilly Kane a thing.

**Author's Note:**I shamelessly stole this title from the Tegan and Sara song, knowing that Rob Thomas wanted to use it in the finale. I'm on an anti-L/V kick right now and I'm having a lot of fun writing for other characters. I'm not sure what this story is, and I'm not even sure it's really Wallace. But it's my best attempt at a teenage boy who's probably the least developed character on the show (you know, lacking a real backstory and all), and what it must have been like for him living in the shadow of Lilly Kane. Enjoy.

* * *

"Has anyone ever given anything to you? 

In your darkest hours

Did you ever give it back?

Well, I have

I have given that to you

If it's all I ever do."

"Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You?" – Stevie Nicks

* * *

He's never believed in ghosts, but he guesses there's a first time for everything. It's late when he gets to bed and it's been a rough night, between his brother acting up and his mother crying over Keith. He's beginning to think maybe Lilly Kane should have lived, because then his mother's heart would never have been snapped in two and his life would be simple again. But he thinks about the thrill quivering between his shoulder blades when he dropped the plant off for Weidman or stole attendance notes or broke into the student personnel files, and decides simple might be overrated. He thinks Lilly Kane would have liked that.

* * *

He doesn't know Lilly Kane. Never heard her laugh, never saw her smile, never touched her or talked to her or loved her. He only knows Neptune's pet princess through grainy footage on CNN, framed photos in his school's hallways, Veronica's memories. He has no loyalty to Lilly Kane, no attachment, no connection, and the only reason he cares who killed her is because Veronica cares. He loves who Veronica loves and hates who Veronica hates because Veronica is his everything. He wants to love Lilly because Veronica loved her, because everyone loved her. But Lilly Kane doesn't mean anything to him. She's just a spoiled heiress who died young and beautiful and in pain. She's the cover of "People" magazine and a profile in "Time," but she's not real, not tangible. She's a glossy photo, a screen capture from "Inside Edition," but she's not the Lilly Veronica loved. He doesn't know what made her laugh, what made her smile, how she liked to be touched or how she liked to be loved. And he knows he'll never know because Lilly Kane is dead and buried and she's just a blur to him, and a painful memory for everyone else. 

He knows Lilly Kane was beautiful. Big boobs and soft skin and a cock-sucking mouth. He knows that's how the other guys talked about her, even if he wasn't around to hear it himself. He wonders what it would be like to kiss Lilly Kane, wonders if it would burn him up until there was nothing left but smoking embers. Wonders if it would suck him dry and leave him begging for more. Wonders if it would leave scars on his heart too painful to heal. He has a feeling it's all of the above, and once he had it, he'd never be able to let it go. He's seen Logan, he's seen Weevil – hell he even saw Aaron Echolls' bloody face frozen on his TV screen. He's not sure he'd want to end up like them, broken and branded and shattered, even if it meant touching Lilly Kane. He thinks he'd rather live, healthy and happy and free.

He knows Lilly Kane was special. He was at her memorial, holding a candle with the rest of the 09ers, watching Veronica cry and Logan's face crumple and her mother nearly have a heart attack on the spot. He watched the giant screen, the way the wind blew her hair back from her face and her eyes lit up with life and he wanted to understand. He saw Veronica on the news an hour ago, starring in her own true-life crime drama where a Hollywood legend murdered her best friend and set her on fire. He knows he and Veronica are tight, that he'd do nearly anything for her – but he wonders how far she'd go for him. Is he special enough to risk everything? Would she die for him, the way she would have for Lilly Kane? Because he sometimes thinks he'd die for her, for baking him snickerdoodles and making him laugh, for cutting him off that flagpole, for giving him a life – a life he'd never have if Lilly Kane had lived.

* * *

She's sitting on the beach, wearing a skimpy dress and drinking champagne right out of the bottle. Her hair blows in the breeze, and she turns to meet him, a smile parting those full lips. "I've been waiting for you," she purrs. "You're late." 

He shrugs into the sand beside her and it feels real beneath his toes, gritty and cold. "Why am I here?"

She takes another swig from the champagne, drops it in the sand. "You and me – we need to talk." She stands, reaches out a hand. Hesitantly, he gives her his own and her fingers are solid around his, soft and slightly chilled. "You ever been skinny dipping?" she asks, her laughter floating on the wind. He watches, frozen in place, as she slips out of the dress, sliding it down her curves painfully slow. She smiles over her shoulder, long hair flying around her face and those lips curved into an aching smile. He stands on the shore whiles she floats on the surface, the moonlight painting her skin a too pale white. After a moment or two he turns away. He's never been one for floor shows.

Later, they sit in the sand, water lapping at their toes and his jacket wrapped around her bare shoulders. "Tell me, superstar. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Was I supposed to be impressed?"

She shrugs her shoulders, the fabric of his jacket scrapping over her skin. "Most people would be."

"I'm not most people."

"I know." She turns to him, takes his hand in hers again. Her features are softer, gentler, and he knows it's not just the moonlight. She looks sixteen and scared, like she realizes all she's lost. Her mouth moves towards him – that cock-sucking mouth that's kissed anything and everything – and her lips brush over his slightly, the tiniest touch of her mouth to his, and she pulls back and smiles. "Take care of Veronica for me. She likes to think she's all rock star tough, but I know who she is on the inside, you know?"

"A marshmallow," he murmurs under his breath.

She smiles – a full, pure smile – and stands, dropping the jacket at his feet, sliding the dress over her wet skin. It clings in all the right places, and despite who she is and what she's done, he doesn't think that's her intention. "You know how things are gonna be now, don't you?" she whispers. "You have to know."

This time it's he who leans in and presses his mouth to hers, and this time it's long and wet and aching. "I know," he says. "And I promise." And then she's gone.

He watches her sashay down the shoreline, hips swiveling and hair blowing, tasting cherry lipgloss on his lips. And he thinks now, the imprint of her hand on his palm and her taste on his tongue, that he finally gets it. He'll never know Lilly Kane – not really – but he thinks he understands her, understands Veronica, understands everyone. He touched Lilly Kane and he survived it, but he knows things will never be the same.

It's late when he shows up at Veronica's place, well past three and he's just gotten Darrell tucked in safely at the neighbor's. She looks tiny and weathered when she opens the door, and there's a bruise forming on her cheek. Still, she smiles. "I was hoping it would be you," she says and he envelops her in his arms, breathing in her scent, feeling her solid and warm and alive against him. "Where have you been?" she asks when he's settled on her couch and she's curled in a ball. "You smell like the sea."

He smiles, feels the heat of Lilly Kane's lips against his. "Just out for a walk." He takes her hand in his, without the slightest chill, and holds it tightly. She looks on the verge of tears. "It's gonna be okay, Veronica. We'll get through this. I promise." She collapses against his chest and cries into his shoulder, and he holds her tight and soothes her worries away. He doesn't know if she'd die for him – doesn't think he cares – but he's never been one to break a promise, and he's not about to start now.

* * *

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